


Through The Storm

by Swiggle_muffin



Series: A Piece of Eden [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Prostitution, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:34:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swiggle_muffin/pseuds/Swiggle_muffin
Summary: Polly and Jacob have come to live a relativity peaceful family life. That is up until 1888, where things take a terrifying turn...





	

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation from A Piece of Eden. You will see the focus switch from Polly Rae to Abigail in this story. Thanks to my friend Keni (babelast on tumblr) for allowing me to use her portrayal of Jack. (This story was loosely inspired by the song Never Give Up On You by Lucie Jones)

Abigail hunkered down behind a stack of crates and kept as still and quiet as possible. She could hear the stomping of the Policeman’s boots echoing around the empty warehouse.

“Frye! I know you’re in here, you degenerate!” The man shouted angrily. “Come out now!”

The sixteen year old girl had to stop herself from giggling. Hand over her mouth, she slowly peeked her head round one of the crates.

“Last chance Frye! Or I’ll be required to use force!”

Abigail was bored of hiding now. She wanted some action. She leaped over the crates and into sight of the Policeman.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” She taunted him, then she turned and sprinted out of the warehouse. There was a Police carriage waiting outside, along with two more Officers,

“Stop that girl!”

“Shit!”

Abigail saw she had no other choice but to steal a carriage. She would have a hard time outrunning them, however fast she might be, unless she hit the rooftops, but she didn’t have time to climb up. So she nabbed the nearest carriage she could find and whipped the horse into a fast pace.

“Frye! I order you to stop or I’ll shoot!” One of the Policemen yelled from behind her.

“Good luck Old Man!” Abigail laughed. But the man wasn’t bluffing. A series of gunshots rang out into the night. “Bugger me! Police brutality or what?!”

It took a minute of chasing for Abigail to realise that they weren’t shooting to hit her. They were firing on the horse. Abigail couldn’t have that. She decided to save the horse by jumping off the carriage while it was still in motion.

It hurt like hell as the young girl rolled several yards across the pavement, winding herself in the process. She watched as the Police pulled up and quickly turned their carriage around. Abigail Pulled her hood up and quickly scrambled up the side of the nearest building and onto it’s roof. The night air was cold, but the accomplished free runner soon warmed up as she sprinted away across the rooftops.

“Goodnight Gents!” She shouted as she ran.

“Frye! I will catch you!”

“Yea yea, you said that last week,” Abigail chuckled to herself. After a few minutes, she felt she was at a safe enough distance to slow down. She climbed down and hit the streets instead.

Down a back alley she stumbled across a familiar face.

“Jack! What are you doing out here?” She asked the young man, who looked like he’d just been in a fight, judging by the three crippled men on the ground.

“Disposing of some rubbish,” he replied in a dark tone. “You should go home Abbie. Your mother and father will worry.”

“I’m on my way home now,” Abigail told him huffily. “Don’t get all ‘big brother’ on me.”

Abigail had grown up with Jack, and trained alongside him and her brother as Assassins. Her father was Mentor of the English Brotherhood. Suddenly Abigail heard male voices getting closer to them.

“Keep looking boys! The Sergeant is offering a reward if we catch this brat.”

“Shit!” Abigail gasped.

“What did you do this time?” Jack asked her, frowning.

“Nothing! They just started chasing me!” Abigail insisted, although Jack knew it was a big fat lie. Two seconds later and the three Policemen had turned into the alley.

“There she is! Frye! Give yourself up!”

“Run! I’ll distract them!” Jack hissed to Abigail. She didn’t need telling twice. She shot out of the alley like a bullet from a gun, and onto the street. Another two men were chasing her down, but she had a slight edge in speed over these older Officers. That was until she took a wrong turn by Cockham Merchants and got herself cornered.

“I’m warning you Frye, next time I will use lethal force,” One of the Policemen growled at her.

“I don’t think my father would be too happy about that,” she replied with a smirk.

“And I don’t think he’ll be very happy bailing you out of jail for the third time this week!” He fired at her. Abigail stole a glance behind her. She had nowhere to go but into the Thames. And she was determined to get away.

“How many of you boys can swim?” She asked them cockily, pulling down her hood.

“Don’t even think about it!” The Policeman said angrily, approaching her with his gun raised. “Get here girl!”

“Have a nice evening Gents,” Abigail giggled, and she spun round and dived into the water, just as the gun went off.

Or at least a gun.

Abigail turned in confusion as all the Police scattered in a panic. She couldn’t help laughing. Then she looked up. Standing on a rooftop, sheathing his pistol, was a hooded figure Abigail knew oh-so-well. Arms folded across his chest, Jacob Frye glared down at his daughter. Abigail groaned.

“Aw shit.”

“You have twenty seconds to get out of that water!” Jacob Frye yelled down to his teenage daughter, who was sheepishly already heading for the nearest place to climb out of the river. The water of the Thames was freezing and smelt vile, but Abigail had a feeling that it was still better than the trouble she was in now.

Jacob climbed down from the rooftop he’d been watching from, and helped pull the sopping wet girl from the water. Abigail wrung the water from her auburn her, shivering slightly.

“Yuk! You wouldn’t happen to have a blanket or anything, would you?” Abigail asked her father, flashing him a sweet smile, but Jacob’s frown remained in place.

“Funnily enough I didn’t exactly come equipped to drag my daughter out of the Thames,” he replied, but he was already removing his own coat for her.

“Ah well, you’ll know for next time,” she replied casually as her father dropped his coat around her. “Blimey! You’d get three of me in here!”

“One of you is trouble enough,” Jacob sighed frustratedly. “And what do you mean next time? No Abbie. No more ‘next times’, alright?”

“He wouldn’t of shot me. You were there,” Abigail insisted, pulling her father’s coat tighter around her. Jacob bent down in front of her and looked at her seriously.

“He didn’t know that. And what happens if I’m not there, hmm? Freddy’s already warned me that the Police aren’t going to take any more of your antics Abbie. They don’t care that you’re just a kid. You could get seriously hurt.”

“I’m sorry. But listen-”

“No, you listen to me,” Jacob ordered her. “Knocks on my door telling me you’re in a jail cell I can deal with. But a knock on the door telling me you’re in the morgue? That would destroy me. And your mother. So please just behave.”

Abigail didn’t reply, she just gave a little huff. She’d only been trying to have some fun. No-one had been hurt. The only person who had gained cuts and bruises was herself. Well, as far as she knew. She wasn’t exactly sure how Jack had ‘distracted’ those Officers for her.

As the pair of them walked to Jacob’s carriage, Abigail did feel bad for yet again disappointing the one person she cared about more than anything. But she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to live.

Two Days Later…

"Don't worry, she'll be back in a minute," Jacob tried to assure his wife as she looked out of the window for the fifth time in twenty minutes.

"I worry about Emmett enough at the minute, I don't need Abbie running amuck," Polly sighed, stepping away from the window. "Jacob, I'm scared that if she keeps behaving like this, she'll get hurt. Or worse..."

Polly stifled a sob and Jacob pulled her into his arms, planting a tender kiss onto her lips.

"I'll talk to her," he promised, Suddenly, there was a bang on their front door, and Polly quickly rushed to answer it after shooting a nervous look at her husband. Jacob sighed. He hated that his wife was so on edge about their children, especially as it had been his idea to train them as assassins. Emmett was away on a mission, and Abbie...well Abbie was doing her own thing. Just as Jacob had when he was her age. He saw so much of himself in his daughter, and that worried him a little.

"Again? Jacob!" He heard Polly call from the hall. Jacob hurried to the door. He'd of been lying if he'd said he was surprised to see two police officers at his door.

"Abigail?" He guessed.

"That girl is a public menace!" One officer ranted.

"I beg your pardon?" Polly snapped back.

"I'll deal with it," Jacob said quickly. "Where is she?"

"Scotland Yard."

"Right, I'm on my way."

* * *

 

“Name?” The desk Officer asked Abigail when a Policeman marched her up to the front desk of Scotland Yard.

“Abbie,” Abigail sighed.

“Full name. You’ve been here before, you know the drill.”

“Then you know my name.”

“Don’t get smart Miss Frye,” the Officer warned her, clearly getting riled at being cheeked by a sixteen year old.

“Lady Frye,” Abigail corrected him with a smirk. She tried not to laugh as the man’s face turned even pinker with anger. Abigail knew this Officer well and he didn’t like her one bit. He always worked on the desk, after a leg injury made it difficult for him to walk the streets. Although Abbie would attest that wasn’t her fault, she hadn’t seen the children’s skipping rope…

“That’s your mother,” he retorted. “There’s nothing ladylike about you.”

Abigail sighed. “Fine. Abigail Cecily Frye. Would you like my shoe size too?”

“No. Weapons?”

“No thank you. I’ve got-”

“Shut your smart mouth!” The Policeman holding Abigail snapped, grabbing her left wrist. “And take this off! It’s a weapon!”

Abigail reluctantly removed her blood soaked hidden blade and handed it over. She was then escorted upstairs to the only jail cell in the building. There was already a man in there, asleep on the floor. He reeked of beer.

“Lovely,” Abigail muttered sarcastically, sitting down on a bench.

“I’m going to name that bench after you, Abigail Frye,” said a familiar voice from the doorway. Abigail looked up to see Inspector Abberline, an old friend of her father’s.

“Freddy!” She greeted him with a sweet smile.

“Inspector,” he corrected her sharply.

“Any chance of getting me out of here?” She pleaded with him, making her cutest puppy dog eyes. But unfortunately, they didn’t work on him.

“Officers are on their way to speak to your father. I’m sure you’ll be out of here soon,” Abberline replied.

“I was kind of hoping we could leave my father out of this.”

“I think it’s a little bit late for that now I’m afraid,” Abberline told her with a stern frown. “And things are a bit more serious this time. You stabbed someone Abigail.”

“I didn’t mean to! It was self-defence!” Abbie protested, feeling sick at the memory of it. The brute had come at her fast, her first instinct was to flick out her hidden blade. She’d only done it as deterrent, but the man had kept coming. She’d had no choice but to fight back. She’d stabbed him in the leg, not too badly, but enough to cripple him at the time.

What would happen to her? Would she hang? For a stabbing? No, surely not. Her father had done much worse and he was still alive. Speaking of her father, it was another half hour before he arrived to collect his wayward daughter. Abigail was almost asleep on the bench when she heard him say,

“I’ve half a mind to leave you in there.”

Abbie looked up at him and grinned. “But it’s only half a mind,” she joked. Jacob leant against the bars and sighed, but he tried to force back a smile at her words. She may be a pain in the arse, but oh could she make him laugh.

“This has got to stop Abbie,” he told her sternly. Abigail felt tears pricking at her eyes. She’d let him down again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered hanging her head.

“Right, what are the charges this time, and how much is that puppy in the jail cell?” Jacob asked the Policeman watching over the cell. Another Policeman then entered the room, carrying Abigail’s hidden blade.

“I’ll tell you what the charges are!” He ranted. “Illegal gambling, vandalism, evading arrest and assault!”

“Assault?” Jacob repeated, confused. Abigail knew she shouldn’t be fighting outside of training. Then his eyes fell upon the hidden blade in the Officer’s hand. The knot in his stomach tightened when he saw it was stained with blood. He quickly turned back to his daughter.

“Who’s blood is that?” He asked her seriously. Tears spilled from Abbie’s blue eyes.

“I didn’t catch his name,” she whispered. She stood up and rushed to the cell door. “I didn’t mean to father! He attacked me and I just…”

“You promised me you wouldn’t take that out with you!” Jacob reminded her crossly.

“I’m sorry father. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt…I was just having fun…” Abigail was now sobbing uncontrollably, something she very rarely did, and Jacob couldn’t stand seeing his daughter like that.

“Let her out or let me in. But either way, open that damn door!” Jacob ordered the Policeman, in a low growl. He didn’t argue. He unlocked the door and as soon as it was open, Abigail launched herself at her father. Jacob wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tight. He turned to Abberline, who was standing silently in the doorway.

“Let me take her home. Please Freddy, she’s just a kid.”

“Maybe you should of thought about that when you started training her how to kill people,” Freddy told him sternly.

For once in his life, Jacob couldn’t find a snarky comeback. Was Freddy right? Had he started Abigail too early? Her mother had been nervous about both of their children becoming Assassins, but it was something Abbie seemed very eager to do, and admittedly, Jacob had been quite proud of that. Jacob had promised to take care of them though, and besides, he’d been much younger when his father had started training him and his twin sister Evie.

“Was it self-defence?” Jacob asked Abigail. She nodded against his chest. “That’s enough for me. Now let me take her home. Because I can promise you, I won’t let any one of you hurt my daughter.”

“I don’t want to see her in here again.”

“You have my word. And Abbie’s. Isn’t that right Abigail?”

Abigail stepped away from her father and turned to face Abberline. She wiped her eyes and managed a small smile.

“I’m very sorry Inspector. But I really can’t promise anything,” she said quietly.

“Oh God damn it…” Jacob groaned, but inside he was laughing his head off. Jacob and Abigail headed home, with Jacob trying to think of a way to explain this to Polly. And his daughter running wild wasn't exactly what he needed right now. The Assassin council was putting more and more pressure on him, and he was having frequent arguments with Jack. There were some days where Jacob didn't want to leave his bed. He wouldn't admit it, but without Evie, he was struggling. Having two children as Assassins only added to his worries too, although Abigail was yet to be formally inducted. But Emmett was away on his first proper mission, so Jacob had that playing on his mind.

"So. What's our story this time?" Abigail asked her father as the carriage pulled up outside their house.

"You fell down," Jacob shrugged. "It's not a lie."

Of course Polly didn't buy the story, but she sent Abbie to change and have a bath with telling her off too badly. Jacob skulked off to his study and Polly sighed after him. She knew there were things getting him down, and it frustrated her that he wouldn't open up. She'd always told him there was nothing they couldn't get through together. He'd had spells of heavy drinking of late, but Polly wouldn't give up. She loved him, and she was in it for the long run.

He was still there by the time Polly was going to bed. She went in to see if he too was turning in for the night?

"Are you coming to bed tonight?" She asked him, a little sharper than she intended. Jacob didn't look up from the letter he was writing.

"I just need to finish this report for the council," Jacob explained, scribbling away.

"Can't it be done tomorrow? You're clearly tired. You know, I'd like to write a letter to that council of yours," Polly ranted. Jacob stopped what he was doing and looked up at her with a little smile.

"Oh yes? And what exactly would your letter say?"

"That I'm cross that they're putting too much onto my husband and it's making him grumpy." Polly replied like a moody teenager. Jacob gave a little snort of laughter and pulled Polly onto his lap. He hated seeing Polly upset, and he hated even more being the cause of it, especially when he'd been drinking.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be grumpy," he told her, planting a kiss on her cheek. "I've just got a lot on my plate-"

"Then tell them you need a break! Or some help at least," Polly said desperately. "They can't expect you to do all this on your own."

"I had help. It fucked off to India," Jacob pointed out, a little bitterly. "The next best thing I have is Jack, and even he worries me at times. But maybe you're right. I need to look at my priorities and shift some of the weight."

The next morning Jacob called a meeting with the few Assassin recruits he had, including Jack and Abigail. He'd thought things over and thought he'd figured out a way to relieve some of his stress.

"I'm going to have to give some of you more responsibilities," Jacob addressed the group. "This is taking it's toll on me a bit, and as my darling wife pointed out, I'm becoming 'grumpy'. So to take off some of the pressure I'm going to be handing over the reigns of the Rooks to Jack."

Jack barely responded, he just gave a tiny nod of his head. Would this be a decision Jacob would come to regret?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read my story. If you enjoyed it, kudos and a comment would be much appreciated. Or hunt me down on tumblr (swiggle-muffin)


End file.
